


You Only Live Twice

by keyoftheheart



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: AltarBoy!Phichit, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, ChoirBoy!Yuuri, I'll add tags as I go along, M/M, Slow Burn, Vicchan is still dead, VictUuri, Victor Nikiforov's AU past, Viktor adopts Yurio, Viktor doesn't deserve this, otayuri - Freeform, really bloody at some point, really long, viktor is a lawyer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-19 15:24:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10642644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keyoftheheart/pseuds/keyoftheheart
Summary: They say that only death can bring meaning to life.But for Viktor Nikiforov, the devil of the Russian Judicial business, who lived in solitude and had lost his own meaning of life-- what will it take for a man of sin to change for the better? A story of a man who had lost his family, lost a life he would have lived and even the people and things that gave him hope.In other words, Viktor doesn't deserve this.But I promise a happy ending!





	1. The Man of Sin

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This is my first time to write a multichapter fic so it does make me nervous. But thank you for all my friends who liked the premise and the summary of the entire story and gave a supporting push for me to write this. I'm not a great writer but I hope I can deliver the story to you all in the way I was able to thrill you guys in my summary.
> 
> Disclaimer: I've researched as far as the internet could take me but if someone could help me with knowledge about the Orthodox church that would be greatly appreciated! (I'm Roman Catholic, studied in a catholic school for almost a decade so I'm working with what I know and researched) 
> 
> You can send asks or message me on my yoi blog: born-to-eat-katsudon.tumblr.com

“Mr. Nikiforov, please.” the man pleaded. “I have a child. I’m innocent! I don’t wanna go to prison! I need to prove myself innocent and you’re the only one I can turn to now since I’ve been framed so badly!”

Viktor clicked his tongue and crossed his legs under his desk. He lazily spun his pen in between his index and middle finger and let out a sigh.

“For the last time, Mr. Leroy. You can’t afford me. Look for another lawyer.”

Defeated, the dismayed client grit his teeth and stood up from the seat in front of the infamous lawyer.

“Isabella...” he said with a cracked voice.

The man gripped the locket he has in hand.

“Isabella?” the silver-haired lawyer shifting in his seat.

“My wife. She’ll be all alone with my princess.” he began, showing his locket to Viktor. “Ain’t she a beauty?”

“Indeed. She is.”

As if on cue the beautiful woman herself in the photo barged into the doors of Viktor Nikiforov’s office and knelt in front of his desk.

“Please, Mr. Nikiforov. I’m begging you!” she pleaded. “I fear that J.J. might not only have to be sent to prison but there’s a possibility he might be executed for something he really didn’t do.”

Viktor eyed the woman on her knees, expression blank.

“If we can’t pay you full, perhaps...” Isabella said while she hesitantly unbuttons the first two buttons of her shirt. “...t-this can compensate?”

The raven haired woman leaned over his desk, a cut between her ample chest pressing on to Viktor. The lawyer gave nothing but a passive look.

“Isabella!” J.J. retorted, frozen on his spot. “What are you doing?!”

“J.J., I’m willing to do anything to save you.” she said, her eyes looking over to the side. “Even if it means...”

“Are you crazy? I can’t let you do that! There’s no way I’m going to let you!”  
  
“J.J., I’m willing to pay any kind of price to save you and our family so please!”

“No! Just there’s no way this is going to happen!”

“Enough of this.” Viktor cleared his throat and stood from his seat. “I’ll accept your price. I’ll take your husband’s case.”

Isabella’s eyes lit up.

“Y-You will?!” she exclaimed, turning back to Viktor.

“Of course. If a beautiful lady such as yourself is willing to offer herself to me then who am I to turn down such a gracious offer?”

J.J.'s blood curdled at the guts this lawyer had to actually agree having sex with his wife. He slammed his fists on the expensive glass surface of Viktor's desk.

“You scum! How dare you?!” the other man yelled.

“J.J., shh.. Don’t!” Isabella hushed his husband. “Please don’t do this. He’s our only chance please. It’s not like I’m going to enjoy myself. I’m doing this for you!”

“By selling your body to this scum to save my life?! You know better than that! I’d rather--”

“Oh so you call the man that’s gonna save your life ‘scum’.” Viktor commented as he cocked his head slightly to the side with a challenging look.

Isabella pushed J.J. aside before the man could do any more damage.

“You’re not gonna do this right, Isabella? You can’t!” the Canadian man pleaded.

“J.J., please. I love you. It’s just a little sacrifice on both of our parts.” she said softly against his chest. “I can’t bear to live without you!”

“Isabella...”

She pressed her lips gently over her husband’s. Tears streamed down both her cheeks and J.J. withdrew his argument.

“Mr. Nikiforov,” she turned to the lawyer with resolution.

Viktor acknowledged her wish with a nod.

“However you must ensure that you’ll save my husband.”

“But of course.” Viktor agreed confidently with a sharp smirk. “A deal after all,”

He pushes a folder with a contract with his pen to the woman. She hesitates at first but ultimately places her signature at the end of the document.

“Is now sealed.”

Viktor Nikiforov was known to be a lawyer of high caliber but with a price. He would only take on cases if his clients can afford him. Viktor’s usual clients were wealthy criminals as the poor which are the usual innocent cannot pay the price for his services. There was no doubt that he would surely win all his cases and anyone in this business knew that. When no other lawyer would accept your case, make sure you have the price to pay with the devil.

Viktor makes a career with his conscience out the doorstep of his office. He spares no effort to win a case even if it meant bribing and swindling people. There would even be situations that if he finds his client offering their body to him, he would take upon the offer and consider it as a compensation if their budget was short which in this case, was Isabella Yang-Leroy’s.

* * *

 

“Makkachin, I’m home!” he cheered, opening the door to his penthouse apartment.

A big ball of brown fluff came darting to the man and tackling him down to the floor to lick his master.

“Heel boy, heel!” Viktor laughed. “You really missed me huh, buddy?”

Viktor Nikiforov who was known for his intellect, charms and achievements had only one true companion in his life and that was this brown poodle he’s had for years. Although his infamy isn’t of public record, his skill to turn the tide to his advantage spread like wildfire over word of mouth.

“C’mon let’s take you for a walk.” he softly grinned at his poodle before it ran to fetch his harness and leash from underneath the coffee table.

The two strolled over the bays of St. Petersburg. The salty air of the Baltic Sea accompanied with the sound of seagulls filled the air. The unleashed pooch ran over the lounging birds and sent them flying all over. He watched as Makkachin enjoy himself while he sat in his usual bench.

“It’s been pretty boring lately.” he murmured to himself. “Leroy framed for being a drug lord? I've had more excitement with the Bratva. I hope I get something interesting soon.”

Makkachin hopped onto the spot beside Viktor and licked his palm.

“Wanna go visit Yuri?” he asked.

Of course Makkachin couldn’t answer so he just tags along anyway to follow his master. Viktor stops at a restaurant and ordered some food to go. They stroll down the familiar street until the urban setting slowly transitioned into a rural neighborhood. Viktor passed through the old shabby fence and stopped at the door of a simple wooden bungalow. He knocked firmly and waited for a moment until a blonde teen opened the door.

“Hey, Yuri!” He heartily greeted and raised a paper bag. “I’ve come with dinner!”

Makkachin sprang off inside, chasing Yuri’s house cat to play as usual.

“Ah.” He passively said. “Grandpa and I are going out.”

“Hmm? Where?” he asked, his cheerful demeanor dying down. “Haven’t you had dinner yet?”

“We already had dinner earlier. Grandpa’s always dragging me to go to church for evening Divine Liturgy these days.”

“I see. Where is Nikolai?” he inquired, letting himself in.

“Viktooor!” an aged voice happily called out from a room. An old man around his 70's came into view with wide open arms. “It’s been a while! How are you?”

“I’m well, Nikolai. Thanks!” he wrapped his arms around the elder. “You look fine yourself.”

“Oh I’ve had better days, really.” he replied, letting go of the embrace. “How’s it going with work? I hope you’re still resting!”

“No stress at all. Same old, same old. I’ve pretty much created a routine for any kind of scenario they throw at me.”

“Well isn’t that nice. Nothing less to expect from a genius like you. Make sure you always take care of yourself, alright?”

“Of course. Oh and I brought dinner.” Viktor said, raising up a paper bag in his hand.

“Oh thank you, Vitya. But Yuratchka and I have already had dinner. We’re catching the first evening service, you see.”

“Right, Yuri did mention that.” Viktor’s voice was slowly filled with a tinge of disappointment. “I’ll leave this on your fridge, Nikolai.”

Viktor moved to place the contents of the paper bag into their small fridge. He was truly at home at the Plisetsky household. They were like family.

“Thank you so much, Viktor. But do have a bite too!” the man said, patting his shoulder.

“All good, Nikolai. These are for you anyway.” he smiled to assure the man.

“I know, how about you come join me and Yuratchka to service tonight?” the old man suggested.

“HUH?” But of course, the teen had to react quickly. “Why does he have to go with us too?”

“Well, I don’t see why not. Would be nice to have some company.” his grandfather replied.

“I’m alright, Nikolai. I wouldn’t really wanna bother your quality time with Yuri.” Viktor said waving his hands. “Besides, Makkachin hasn’t had dinner yet.”

“I see. Well, come visit more often, Vitya. You’re always welcome here.”

“Thank you, Nikolai.”

* * *

 

Back home, Makkachin scarfed down the gourmet dog food that Viktor always served every dinner for his pooch.

“Whoa there, Makkachin. Slow down!” Viktor chuckled as he cleaned up the kitchen counter. “We wouldn’t want that choking incident to happen again.”

After he’s cleaned up the kitchen, he threw himself over at the couch and looked around the room.

_It’s getting pretty lonely, huh?_

His eyes settled for a moment on the grand piano in the middle of the room before he decided to stand up to play a piece.

_Beethoven, Pathetique 2nd movement._

Aside from his achievements from law school, Viktor also had studied classical music as a child. He played in numerous violin competitions and piano recitals in his early years across Europe and won national competitions that gained him a scholarship before he decided to shift to law school. His living room’s walls were decorated with frames of medals and trophy cases. From one side of the room, it was all the gold medals and trophies he got from competitions.

There were at least two to three dozens of awards if not more. Each award was labeled with the competition name and year. He was considered a prodigy as musical genius as a child. Inside the trophy case, there would be small picture frames with photos of him as a young kid playing the piano at a recital, receiving awards from violin competitions and even being recognized as one of the best musicians in Europe of his age. While the series of medal cases and trophies stretched on, it transitioned to more of merit certificates and a fewer medals and trophies. These were from his education in law school.

Viktor would not have quit music if he wasn't faced with the harsh death of his parents. The case was left unsolved and void of any sufficient evidence of how they were murdered. It was through music that he was able to make a living for himself and a scholarship grant. He would have been handed over to relatives but he insisted that he could fend off for his own as he was already of age. On that very day, Viktor swore to finish law school as fast as he could to solve his parents’ case on his own.

But somewhere along the way, he was lost. He found it futile that no court wanted to continue with this case as it was already trashed for over a decade already. It was the start of his rebellion, his selfishness and solitude.

The beautiful sounds of the keys echoed throughout the room and soothed Viktor’s soul. It was a medium for him to retreat to a place in his heart where love and happiness existed. If it weren’t for his grudge over his parents’ death, he would have continued to pursue music for the rest of his life. But now he’s been corrupted by the pain that has haunted him ever since. In order to numb the pain, he indulges himself into his work and taking in risks to thrill himself. Part of him hated the fact that he had to make that rash decision to quit his music career.

Music was one of the few things that served as a channel for him to express his feelings or at least to keep him distracted from the fact that his life is becoming stagnant. And yet, too much of it brings back the pain.

He needed something that will bring him out of the monotonous routine of everyday. To put he pain to rest once and for all. But what?

As he finished the piece precisely down to the very last note, he finds Makkachin resting beside his piano stool.

“Time for bed, buddy.”

* * *

 

Days rolled by. Viktor Nikiforov finds himself in some sort of loop everyday. He’s one of the richest bachelors in all of Russia and yet unbeknownst to everyone, one of the loneliest. Given the time that he has to go after work, he couldn’t have dinner with the Plisetsky family anymore since they always go to Divine Liturgy evening. Viktor became lonely.

He tossed and turned on his couch that afternoon after taking an early leave from work. He looked at the piano and was about to get up and play a few pieces when suddenly his phone rang.

It was his old friend, Christophe Giacometti. About time to have some company.

“Hey Chris!” he said through his phone.

“Hey Viktor, how’s my man doing?”

“Bored beyond belief. Where are you anyway?”

“Oh just cruising around Europe. It’s been a while since I’ve actually paid attention to Life and Love.” he said in a ridiculously smooth voice.

“Life and Love huh...”

“You sound like you’ve hadn’t had it in years, my friend. How’s the devil of the big lawyer business? Word of mouth says you’re sleeping with women now as payment.”

“Depends.” Viktor didn’t really wanna delve into the topic.

“And news here says the Russian judicial court is in shambles.”

“Well, there’s really nothing money can’t do. They’re too easy to influence and I’m just doing my job so it’s really their fault they’re in chaos.”

“Just how many officials have you--”

“I don’t remember really. It’s not like they can point out who manipulates strings. I made sure it goes through many people so they don’t actually find out it’s me. Okay, enough with my boring life talk.”

“Hmm, just make sure you know what you’re doing, pal. Wouldn’t wanna see news of you in jail.”

“Trust me, I know what I’m doing. My network’s huge. And if they file something against me, I can just simply win it like any other case I do.”

“If you’re sure, then okay.”

“I am. So how’s the cruise going?”

“Fabulous as always. Although this is my fourth time so it’s getting pretty boring. You should come with me sometimes.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a great idea. Just get me out of this routine for once, da?”

“I thought you could go see that old man and his grandkid?”

“Yeah about that, I can’t really see them much anymore since they’re always going to church every night.”

Chris chuckled quite audibly on the other line.

“What’s so funny?”

“No wonder. Your skin will corrode if you go with them.”

“Very funny, Chris. Anyway about that cruise?”

“We’ll go see. I gotta go, dealer’s coming and she’s a hottie. Tata, Viktor~”

“Alright. Take care.”

And with that, the call ended. Strange. Life and Love, huh?

“The only Life and Love I need is you, buddy.” he said, scratching behind Makkachin’s ears.

Viktor stood up from the couch, checked his pocket for some cash and went to fetch his coat from the rack.

“I’ll just buy dinner, Makkachin. Won’t be too long.”

His dog responded with soft bark and settled on the rug to take a nap.

* * *

 

Viktor strolled down the street taking his time, looking at the restaurants lined up in the market district. To be honest he doesn’t even really feel like eating. He was just getting really bored and needed some fresh air. He’s desperate for a change of routine.

_Anything. Anyone. PLEASE!_

“Viktor!” a familiar elder voice called out from a distance.

He turned to see Nikolai with Yuri walking to his direction.

“Oh hey there, Nikolai, Yuri. What brings you out here?” He said, waving.

“As usual, we’re walking to church for the evening. Perhaps you’d like to join us just for this evening if you’re not busy?”

“I guess I could. It’s getting quite boring lately.”

“You know you can always call Yuratchka on his phone if you’re feeling lonely. Sadly I’m not good with those new kinds of phones so you can only reach me through the telephone.”

“I’ll hang up on you.” Yuri answered with a scowl. “If you’re gonna pester me, I’ll block your number.”

Viktor could only chuckle at the snide answer.

“Now, now, Yuratchka. Let’s go.”

The walk to the church was short and silent. Soon, they were walking under the majestic vaults and arcs of the sacred place. Viktor wasn’t really a religious person although he knew that he was baptized at the very same local church that they’re in. Heck, he doesn’t even know when was the last time he thought about praying.

He wasn’t an artist but he certainly had an eye for art. The enormous paintings that hung grandly on the walls and icons created to the image of the divine beings-- he treated the place more like a museum. Religion didn’t interest him in the slightest so he never considered taking up the Theology subject at all back in his university days. They sat on one of the long wooden benches and he observed some of the congregate kissing icons everywhere and praying and sort of wondering what’s so interesting with a being listening but you can’t really see nor hear.

Strange. He felt very indifferent. If he’s not mistaken, these services last about an hour. Now that he thinks about it, the last time he went to Liturgy was when he was a little boy with his mother. Before he could delve back into some of his memories, the familiar beautiful sound of a C chord from an organ echoed throughout the hall. That’s more like it. Viktor’s interest was somehow piqued. At least he could appreciate the music for an hour. Not like he would care about anything going on. He honestly wished it would be over already so he could go home and surf the net for something new and interesting to do.

The choir harmonized and he closed his eyes to take in the lovely blend of voices. It felt heavenly. But his eyes shot open when an angelic tenor voice took solo. His blue eyes scanned through the choir members to look for where it was coming from. At the center there was a young man with striking black hair in big blue framed glasses belting out incredibly. He didn’t look Russian but he stunningly sang in a foreign language. He was beautiful. He couldn’t take his eyes off him. Viktor’s center of gravity shifts.

_Sigmea vita est temporaria cupit ardenter, caritatem aeternam_

All his life he loved music and the joy it brought him when he feels solitude creeping in. Too much of it however was simply hurting him. There was something with the way he sings. It was nothing like any that he had heard in his life. There was something in him that strikes him to the bone, sending chills down his spine as this young man sings.

_Credam drabo sperabo_  
_Honorabo, laborabo gratias agam_

The service finally begins. Of course the only person really paying attention and fully participating is Nikolai. Yuri could only follow reluctantly however with more ease to sync since he’s been going to service more often with his grandfather. Viktor struggled to keep up with the rest but that’s also because his attention was being stowed away by the choir boy clad in black robes with white long collars embellished with gold who looked so stunningly graceful. Everyone would be concentrating praying but Viktor was only embarrassingly prostrated with the rest of the congregate while he observed how angelic the young man looks when he neatly folds his robes when he kneels. The way he’s indulged into prayer looks like a divine depiction of perfection.

He wished that the service wouldn’t end. He could stare at him even if he wasn’t singing. But when he did, it sends him into a state of euphoria even if it wasn’t a solo. Viktor can pick out his voice among the dozen harmonizing. But the hour passed by too quickly and as they sing the last hymn, Nikolai tapped Viktor on the shoulder that they could go home now.

Viktor regrettably  followed the two out of the church while he took one glance of the boy before finally turning away to listen to his voice as it faded while he made his way out.

That night, Viktor couldn't get this choir boy out of his head.


	2. Learning What It Means To Pass Away

Viktor couldn’t sleep. The choir boy’s voice kept ringing in his head and he couldn’t find it in himself to rest. Makkachin whined when Viktor accidentally kicked the pooch while he tossed and turned, causing him to get off the bed and sleep on the carpeted floor instead.

“Sorry buddy, I didn’t mean to.” he mumbled to his pet. “I just couldn’t sleep.”

It was already a late hour and Viktor still had work the next morning. The sound of the choir boy’s voice resonated in his thoughts vividly. The way he held himself with grace to match his angelic singing. Viktor had the strong urge to see him again. But that meant he’ll have to go back to the church tomorrow with the Plisetsky’s. It doesn’t matter what he has to do just as long as that urge to meet him once more is satisfied. Never had he have this feeling of longing and excitement in a long while. But in order to see him again, he must sleep for tonight and get through a long day at work.

He closed his eyes and turned the lingering memory of his voice into a lullaby to put him to sleep.

* * *

 

That afternoon, Viktor felt as if his time at work ticked so slow. Once the clock hit four in the afternoon on the dot, the lawyer shot up from his seat and exited the office as briskly as he could. His heart pumped with excitement but he needs to do a few more things before he can go meet the Plisetsky’s. He had to walk Makkachin and have dinner early if he wants to make it on time.

The walk with Makkachin became a jog for the two of them around the neighborhood to the bay and back. Viktor didn’t feel exhausted at all. This new routine excited him. He’s never felt this hype over seeing a person again. Once dinner was finished, he picked up his phone and dialed Yuri’s number.

It rang about five times before he finally answered.

“What do you want?” the teen huffed through the phone.

“Hey Yuri, you going to church with your grandpa?” he heartily replied.

“Yeah why?” Yuri flatly asked.

“Well you see, I wanted to tag along with you guys if that’s alright.”

Of course it’s not alright if it wasn’t. He’d go himself anyway. Just that he wanted some company at least so he doesn’t look so stupid if he loses track of the things going on in the service when he’s gotten too focused watching the boy.

“Huh? You wanna go with us again?”

“Yeah. I’m about to go now. I’ll pick you and your grandfather up at your place.”

“Now wait just a second I--”

“I’ll see you there!”

Viktor ended the call before the teen was able to protest. He grabbed his coat and fixed himself in front of the full body mirror to make sure he’s looking spiff without a hair out of place. Once he was done, he gave the sleeping Makkachin a pat on the head before grabbing his wallet and keys and head out.

The man drove to the rural area of St. Petersburg. This giddy feeling while he’s driving? A mystery even Viktor doesn’t know. He was like a child who was going on a field trip. Soon as he’s arrived at his destination, he pulled up in front of the Plisetsky residence and jogged up to the door. Before he could land his knuckle on the surface, the door opened quickly and Viktor wasn’t able to pull his hand away in time and knocked on the blonde teen’s forehead.

“HEY! WHY YOU--” Yuri yelled at the man.

A deep bellowing laugh came from behind.

“You oughta be careful when to open the door, Yuratchka.” Nikolai laughed, coughing at the end of his sentence.

“Nikolai!” Viktor pulled the man into a quick hug.

“Came for dinner again, Viktor? Yuratchka and I were just about to leave for church.”

“Ah no, I’ve already had dinner. I’m here so I could drive you to church.” he answered with a soft grin. “I called Yuri earlier that I was coming to pick you up.”

“Really? Yuratchka, you didn’t tell me.”

Yuri didn’t respond but turned away before rolling his eyes with a sigh and retreated to his room.

“Shall we go?” Viktor asked.

“Well, since you’re driving us we’ll get there too early compared to when we walk there.” Nikolai replied and tapped his shoulder. “How about some tea first before we go?”

Viktor wanted to go. The earlier the better. The longer he’ll stay, the longer he’ll be able to see the boy.

“S-Sure. Thanks, Nikolai.”

Viktor sat at the other end of the small wooden table drinking his tea while Yuri’s cat rubs himself all over his leg. He glanced at the old man, observing the drowsy look in his eyes caused by the wrinkles that folded over age.

“Vitya, have you been feeling lonely lately?” Nikolai broke the silence.

The sudden question got the man by surprise. Although he appreciated the hospitality they give him, his main goal was to actually see a particular someone. But he couldn’t say that out loud now, can’t he? That would be plain rude.

“Well… I guess?” he mumbled before taking a sip.

“You know you could spend time with my grandson. I’m fearing that Yuratchka would feel lonely soon too.”

“Howcome?” he replied, looking up at the man.

“Viktor, I’m old. I’ve had my best days but now seems like the twilight of my life.”

“Nikolai, don’t tell me you’re...”

“I wanted you to have this.” he handed over an envelope, sealed tight. “Only open it when I’ve already passed away.”

The sound of words 'passing away' was a weird sensation rolling in Viktor's mind.

“Don’t say stuff like that, Nikolai. You’re living a long life, okay?”

“I have, dear boy. I have. But we’ll get there someday and I’m worried for what is going to happen to the boy I’ve always taken care of since he was born. He doesn’t seem to have much friends and he’s too young to be left out here all alone.”

Viktor’s heart clenched. They were supposed to go to church together and he was about be really happy to see that choir boy again. But why the sudden plummeting of mood? So Nikolai had been going to church with Yuri so that God would lengthen his life so his grandson would have him much longer.

“Sorry to drop this conversation out of the blue, Viktor.” the old man stood up and patted Viktor’s back. “Thought I could have someone l trusted listen.”

He glanced at the man and looked him in the eye.

“After all, you saved me from a death penalty I didn’t deserve. You come at the highest price and I couldn’t pay you so I at least owe you my life and you will always be welcome here.”

Viktor smiled softly and stood up to place his cup on the sink.

“If it weren’t for Yuri being stubborn and yelling in my office for days you mean. He’s the true hero here.”

Both men laugh at the memory.

* * *

 

The drive to church was a rather brief one compared to walking for thirty minutes. Viktor’s mood was dropped to an all time low when death involving people he knows becomes a topic. After all, he’s had his share of pain of losing loved ones. It was a sensitive thing to tackle and he would very much want to avoid it at all costs.

They walked down the left aisle to find a seat up close. Viktor was too delved into the topic that seared him that his heart skipped a beat when a certain familiar someone came into view.

It’s him again. The choir boy with black hair and blue glasses. He looked stunningly graceful as always. He tugged at Yuri and Nikolai’s arm to gesture them to an open bench close to the choir.

All the gloom he was feeling was instantly wiped away when the choir started to harmonize and the sound of the organ accompanied them. Normally Viktor would close his eyes to appreciate the music fully but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the tenor boy who seemed like an angel gifted from the heavens to earth.

Viktor’s gaze was met by the young man he was quietly adoring. His brown eyes went wide as he stared back at blue dilated eyes and shifted his line of sight somewhere else, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks.

Viktor couldn’t sleep that night.

* * *

 

Day after day, it’s become a routine that Viktor would pick up the Plisetsky’s at exactly 5:45 PM. Although it’s become repetitive everyday, it did not send him back to feeling of stagnancy unlike a month ago. He was happy to have some company and the simple joy it brings when he sees the young man whom he thinks was an angel in disguise.

But this day, this day will be different.  Viktor has thought long and hard about it and he will finally walk up to the young man after service and talk to him. He looked at himself at the mirror and wore his best casual outfit and made sure he looked perfect. But comes the real question.

“What should I say to him?” he told himself in the mirror.

He made a few faces, practicing his expression while coming up of lines to say.

“Hi, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’ve been listening to you sing for quite some time now and I think it’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever heard.”

…..

“Good evening. You sing very well. I’ve been listening to you and you’re amazing.”

…..

“Hi, my name is Viktor Nikiforov, I-- No...”

He backed up from the mirror and after a couple of steps, his foot landed on something soft and fluffy, causing a loud whining from behind. Apparently he stepped on Makkachin’s tail.

“Oh no! Sorry, Makkachin. I didn’t mean to.” he bent down and rubbed the poodle’s tail.

He was about to leave when his phone started ringing. Viktor reached for his mobile and checked the caller ID. It was Yuri.

“Hello, Yuri?”

“Viktor, come quickly!” the teen yelled through the phone with an exasperated yet worried tone.

“Yuri? What happened?!” A chill went down his spine at his initial guess. He hoped that wasn’t it.

“Grandpa’s… I don’t know what to do!”

Viktor scrambled for his keys and wallet and darted through the door.

“Where are you right now? I’m coming.”

“At home. Grandpa’s not breathing! He just took a nap and told me that we’ll go to church once he wakes up.”

His heart started pounding at an alarming rate.

“Call an ambulance, Yuri. You know the emergency hotline right?”

“What was it again?”

“103. I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

Viktor hung up and spammed the close door button on the elevator. He had wished that the elevator could move faster.

“C’mon hurry up!”

He briskly walked to his car and drove out the basement parking faster than he could muster strength to fight this panic. Nikolai Plisetsky's words haunting him like a ghost at the back of his head.

_"...when I pass away."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I speak my anxiety through this fic.  
> Until next week's update!


	3. Afterimages of the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We now take a peek on what molded Viktor Nikiforov to be the man he is now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think you'll hate me for the ending of this chapter.

The trip to the Plisetsky's was one filled with utter anxiety. Viktor struggled to pull himself together especially that he was driving. What seemed to be an eternity was only a few minutes before he pulled up at the Plisetsky’s. The ambulance was already there, rolling in a stretcher bed into the house. He hastily made his way to the door to find a raging teen, screaming and crying over his grandfather like a child on a huge tantrum as he followed the stretcher bed out to the ambulance. The medics tried their best to pry him away but at the look of the scene, they must have needed utmost patience because any normal person's tolerance would have snapped already at the teen's outburst. Viktor could only feel pity welling in his heart and a strong empathy to Yuri's emotion.

 

_Blaring sirens. Medics. Police._

_Numerous cars speeding down to the Nikiforov manor._

_Viktor stood there still, eyes empty of life, watching his parents being rolled away on stretcher boards as police investigate the crime scene in the residence._

_"Young man," a policeman said, "You need to step away from there, we need to investigate the vicinity."_

_But Viktor didn't move an inch. His silver hair stained with splatters of blood, fringes covering half of his face._

_He felt so much intense emotions at once. Fear, anger, sadness, stress all churning up in his chest like a whirlpool of negativity. But his face remained empty and he's just physically numb from the magnitude of it all._

_"Young man, you're gonna have to move. We have to get to the bottom of who killed your parents."_

_...killed your parents. The words that rolled off his lips rang into Viktor's head like a church bell. That his parents were_

 

_dead._

_It was only then he dropped to his knees and wept._

_The officer could respect the boy's space and let him cry but the longer it takes for him to do his job, the more unlikely they would track the trail while it's still warm._

_"I'm sorry... but please, could you--" the man was about to touch his back to rub circles on it only to be startled as Victor snatched the pistol on his waist holster. "What are you doing?!"_

_He pointed the gun to his head, desperate to stop the pain._

 

With an expert maneuver he as able to pry Yuri with a twist of his arm before he held him close to his chest.

“Shh, Yuri, let them do their job. We’ll follow them to the hospital.” he said softly, trying to sound calm but in his mind there was nothing but a shuddering afterimage of memories.

Yuri demanded his release but the fact that he was being detained by an embrace, albeit seemingly gross in his head yet he knows was probably sincere, he could only sink and give up to the binding force that was Viktor's arms.

After all, who else would tend to him?

Viktor drove not far behind the ambulance with Yuri riding with him at the front seat. The trip was spent in silence with a few sobs escaping the blonde teen’s lips as he tried to hold his tears back further but only to fail.

As soon as they arrived at the hospital, Viktor and Yuri could only stay in the waiting room as Nikolai was being examined in the emergency room. They filled out some papers and paced back and forth for an hour. It was unbearable. Whatever Viktor was feeling, he knew that Yuri was feeling it at least a dozen times worse and he didn’t know what to do to comfort the boy.

Viktor slumped on his seat and rested his elbows on the edge of his lap while cupping his face with his hands. He knew it was futile but he took the chance that maybe someone up there would listen to his silent wish.

_“God, if you could hear me. Grant Nikolai’s prayer please. Let him live. He’s come to pray to you every night so you could extend his life. So please...”_

A doctor approached them with a clipboard in hand and looked at them with a disappointed demeanor.

“Doc, everything alright?” Viktor asked, his voice trembling as he stood up.

“Tell me my grandpa’s okay!” Yuri yelled. “He is, right?!”

The doctor beckoned them to follow him to Nikolai’s bed. In one curtained cubicle of the emergency room, Nikolai was attached with numerous cables, barely breathing and pale. Yuri tried to stomach the sight of his grandfather in such a state.

“We’ve tried everything we could. He doesn’t have much time.” the doctor began. “We managed to restore his heartbeat but it’s unstable and the next time it stops, we may lose him.”

Nikolai was weak but not unconscious. With a push of whatever strength he had left, he managed to open his eyes, tears welling up at the sight of his grandson.

“Y-Yuratchka...” he managed to say in a weak whispering voice.

“Grandpa!” Yuri threw himself by the side of the bed.

Yuri held his grandfather's hand in his, careful to not make contact with the IV. Viktor followed Yuri and watched from a distance to give the teen his space with his grandfather.

“Viktor... the envelope. You can… open it.”

The envelope.

 _“Don’t say stuff like that, Nikolai. You’re living a long life, okay?”_  
_“I have, dear boy. I have. But we’ll get there someday_

The memory back in that day over tea. He knew what he meant. But Viktor couldn’t accept that this was happening too quickly.

“Grandpa, what do you mean?”

“Yuratchka… my dear Yuratchka… I’m so sorry." the old man managed to say in heaves of breaths. "You are the best thing… that has ever happened in my life.”

“Grandpa… You’ll get better, right?! You will be!” Yuri's voice cracked from whispers to yelling in sobs, tears spilling uncontrollably down his cheeks.

“Viktor please... take care of... my treasure." Nikolai coughed, voice starting to fade. "He’s the only one... that I’ve got.”

Viktor couldn't take this. But they were finally at the end of the line. Nikolai's off to his next journey and Viktor can only nod to the old man's last wish. Yuri on the other hand was not accepting what was unfolding before them.

“Yuratchka… I will always… watch over you.” he said in almost inaudible whispers. "Don't ever give up.. no matter what tomorrow will be."

Yuri shook his head. 

"No, this is just all a bad dream. None of this is real!"

But at the toll of heaven's gate, he knew it was time. He tugged the corners of his lips upwards with what was last of his strength to bid his grandson goodbye.

Nikolai’s hand went limp in Yuri’s. The heart monitor’s pulse peaks straightened and the beeps turned into a prolonged sound.

It pained Viktor to see to see Yuri a crying mess, denying, bargaining that this was all just a huge nightmare. But it wasn’t. 

* * *

 

Nikolai’s wake was brief. On the day he was buried and all the other people had gone home, Viktor finally opened the envelope that he was entrusted to.

It contained a letter and a cheque.

_Dear Viktor Nikiforov,_

_This is my last will and testament. Over the last two weeks we’ve spent with you going to church, I feel like you are the one I should hand over my greatest treasure. I had feared that this time would come too soon when I cannot be with Yuratchka anymore._

_In this envelope I have attached a cheque emptying my bank account. Really sorry if it’s just peanuts compared to what you make but I hope this helps you to take care of him._

_I will be forever thankful, Viktor. Please let my grandson live on._

_Nikolai Plisetsky_

 

The platinum haired man started at the paper and the cheque for a while before folding it back. He looked at the blonde grandson arrange the flowers on his grandfather’s grave and slowly approached him to tap his shoulder.

“Yuri.” he began. “Let’s go home.”

“Huh?” the boy muttered, turning his head at the older man.

“Your grandfather’s will is to have me take care of you.” he said, holding up the envelope.

Yuri took the envelope from him and read through the signed letter from his grandfather.

“Come, let’s go pack all your stuff.” Viktor said, walking down the hill trail down to the cemetery’s parking lot.

The teen took one last look at his grandfather and followed Viktor.

* * *

 

Yuri settled in Viktor’s penthouse. It was grand. It wasn’t like their shack downtown. Albeit incredible, he couldn’t find it cozy. Over the next days, Yuri’s mood hadn’t improved in the slightest. Viktor bought gaming consoles and a laptop for Yuri to use but nothing was numbing the pain of his loss. No matter what he does, nothing seemed to be helping.

He would play his piano to entertain himself but recently the reason that suppresses Viktor to enjoy music amplified after Nikolai’s death and he’s very unsure why. He slumped on his piano stool, trying to focus his mind on the music he’s going to play and not on the things that stop his fingers from pressing on the keys.

 

_Bach, Minuet in G_

 

_“You’re doing well, Vitya!” His mother applauded._

_“Spasibo, Mamochka!” the small boy replied with a smile, looking up to his mother from the piano stool_

_“You’ve finished your first piece. Well done!”_

_“I wanna play Tchaikovsky, Mamochka. I really do!”_

_“Practice hard and you’ll get there.”_

 

Before he knew it, his chest was swelling up, choking him with a sob and his eyes threatened to spill with tears.

Same old cases. His life had indeed changed however his work hadn’t. Viktor’s usual client, the Bratva, had kept him busy for over the last few days. A lawyer covering for the Bratva was a dangerous task but he eased to the chore. After all, they paid him in huge amounts that was even higher than the price he asks for.

 

_Beethoven Moonlight Sonata 1st Movement._

 

_“Mamochka, Papochka! I did it!” the young silver-haired pianist yelled, running out of the auditorium’s backstage to meet his parents in the lobby._

_“You certainly did, solnyshko.” his mother welcomed him with open arms, embracing the small child as he threw himself at her. “You were incredible!”_

_The tall man beside the woman picked up the little boy and bounced him in his strong arms._

_“That’s my Vitya! You make us so proud, son!” his father’s voice gleefully chimes. “What a big trophy you have!”_

_The boy raised up the trophy and flowers, showing it to his parents in delight._

 

_2nd Movement._

_“Vitya, follow your mother. I’ll hold them back!” the tall man with silver hair yelled, pushing his son to his wife. “Take care of her!”_

_“Moya lyubov, please be careful!” his wife pleaded, placing a kiss on his lips. “I will meet you at Pavlovsk!”_

_“Go, now!” he shouted._

_“Papochka, I’ll help you!”_

_“You do no such thing, Viktor! Now run, I’ll catch up with you!”_

_“Promise me, Papochka!” He cried._

_His father straightened up his struggling face and smiled at his son._

_“I promise, Viktor.” he said, hugging his child. “But you must take care of mamochka for me. Do you understand?”_

_Viktor’s eyes welled with tears due to the fear._

_“Da.” he finally answered, trying to tug the corners of his lips upward._

_“That’s my boy. Now go before--”_

_Suddenly the door broke down and several masked men barged inside._

_“The Bratva!” Viktor cried._

_“Go, NOW!” his father screams._

_His father raised his gun and fired at the men, taking down three in two shots. But before he could fire again, one masked man shot the woman running with the teen._

_She tumbled over her feet, dropping to the floor on her knees if it weren’t for her son trying to hold her up. Viktor’s world became a spiraling mess at the sight of his mother shot. He scanned her body, looking where the bullet could have possibly wounded her. He looked at her vitals, her limbs but there was no wound. It was only until he swept her hair away from her face did he find a horrifying gunshot wound on her forehead exuding blood steadily down her pale face, eyes open and empty of life._

_His arms shook, holding his deceased mother._

_“N-No… no way… Mamochka...” he mumbled, eyes wide in disbelief of the sight before him. “Mamochka!”_

_His father turned to him, equally shocked at the terrifying picture of his wife shot dead. He hears the reloading of a gun and turns to see it aimed to kill the silver-haired teen helplessly holding his mother._

_“No! Vitya!” His father cried out._

_He leapt into the line of sight, blocking the attacker with his might and pulled the trigger the same second the bullet flew straight to his heart. Two men were down, his father’s gun flying out of his hand and sliding on the floor to his knee._

_“Papochka!” Viktor cried, tears uncontrollably streaming down his face. “Papochka, get up!”_

_But the man remained to lie on the floor in a puddle of his own blood._

_The last member of the Bratva remaining pried out a gun from a fallen comrade and casually walked to the long-haired teen._

_“What do you want...” Viktor shakily asked._

_There was no answer. The gun cocking as the man casually placed the nozzle of the pistol over his pale forehead._

_Viktor’s world spiraled down into chaos, everything else in his mind incomprehensible with emotions swirling in his heart beating over a hundred and half pumps a minute, turbulently combining fear, sadness and anger all at once. His eyes widened no further, tears tremendously flowing, face red with anger as he picked up the gun his father dropped and aimed it at the Bratva member’s face briskly before shrieking a bloodcurdling cry,_

_“WHAT DO YOU WANT?!?!”_

_He pulled the trigger, blowing the man’s face sending splatters of blood to taint his face and clothes-- the man’s body toppling down before him. The teen trembled, looking at his quaking hands and dropped the gun, realizing what he just did. He lifted the mask of the man he shot, as if just to know who was behind all this only to see a mangled skull with eyeballs dropping out, contents of the skull spilling from the mask._

 

Viktor shot up from his bed, gasping for air. He ran his hand over his hair and wiped away the beads of sweat on his forehead. Another sleepless night.

* * *

 

Days rolled by and Viktor had forgotten about the joy that he once had two weeks ago.

One day he comes home tired from work. He wanted nothing at the moment but to rest and play his piano while a Tchaikovsky melody was running in his head since he was driving home. Viktor opened the door to the foyer only to see Yuri panicking over Makkachin.

“Viktor, your dog!” Yuri yelled, trying to ease the dog’s coughing and drooling by patting its back.

“Makkachin!” Viktor scurried to his dog, dropping his briefcase and keys.

“Your dog… it’s just that, we were playing fetch and..I might have thrown it too hard directly at his mouth and it got lodged when he caught it!”

Viktor’s sweat had gone cold. The choking incident from some long time ago replaying in his head. He scrambles to do first aid to dislodge the ball from its throat but all had been futile.  
  
“We need to bring Makkachin to the vet!” Viktor scooped up the poodle in his arms and headed to the door. “Yuri, lock up and follow me as quick as you can.”


	4. An Angel in Disguise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An angel saw Viktor crying and descended to help him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have mercy on Yurio.

The drive to the vet was unbearable. Yuri sat at the backseat, hand patting Makkachin’s back hoping it would help get the ball out of its throat. He himself felt choked. Choked by guilt that this had happened. He knew that Makkachin was Viktor’s forever friend and he loved him as much as he loved his own cat.

In his seat, he recalled what really happened back then.

_He was lying down on his bed, face down, sulking over the death of his grandfather. He was miserable. No matter what he does, just goes right back to the sorrow of living on without the person who raised him. He hated his parents but Nikolai filled the void that his mother and father were supposed to. Grief looming within his heart, he gripped the sheets and tried to sink further into the soft mattress, hoping that it would eat him._

_"What the fuck?!" he yelped, scrambling up to sit up when he felt some wet, slick feeling slide at the bottom of his feet that was hanging off the edge of his bed. "Oh, it's only you."_

_Makkachin barked, sitting by the bed. He picked up the ball that sat under his paw and placed it on top of the bed. You could clearly tell that Makkachin was smiling by the way his tongue lolled out while he panted before barking once more._

_"Go play by yourself." Yuri grumbled, kicking the small tennis ball off his bed, only for Makkachin to fetch it and place it back on the duvet._

_"I told you, I don't want to play!" he snatched the ball and threw it out his door, hoping that the dog wouldn't come back._

_But a moment later, Makkachin came bouncing back with the ball in his mouth, jumping onto the bed and over Yurio. He dropped the ball and started licking his face like crazy._

_"Get off me, you stupid mutt!" he yelled, pushing off the poodle that was pinning him down the bed._

_Makkachin hopped off the mattress and lowered the front half of his body, raising his hips up with his wagging tail and barked._

_"Fine." Yuri picked up the ball and padded out to the huge living room._

_There he slumped onto the couch before throwing the ball without much force. Makkachin easily caught the ball before it bounced onto the floor, making Yuri enjoy quite the show. He threw the ball upwards and the poodle would launch itself up with his powerful hind legs to catch the yellow ball. Each time he was able to pull off the trick, Yuri would throw the ball in a way that's a little bit harder than the previous._

_"Catch this!" he pitched the ball forward and Makkachin caught it-- but the ball's force slid off the grip of his jaw and pushed past to his throat._

_Yuri waited for Makkachin to hand the ball over back to him but when the poodle started retching, heaving breaths and whining, he knew there was something wrong. He immediately opened his mouth, spreading it as far as he could before shoving his hand in carefully to get the ball. Gross as it may be, he knew Viktor would murder him when he arrives home. He tapped on his phone, googling first aid to animals choking. He tried everything-- giving him water, trying to grab the ball through his mouth, hugging the dog from behind and squeezing in intervals to dislodge the object. Nothing was working._

_"Fuck, can't you just cough it out harder?!" Yuri was panicking, feeling his hands getting sweaty and shaking._

_He thought of calling Viktor but he knew that the man would come back raging at what happened. He had to solve this before he arrived. By the looks of now, he looked at Makkachin, starting to become lethargic and weak from all the first aid Yuri had attempted. He must've been doing more harm than good. Hissing at no options available, he was about to grab his phone to call Viktor when the door opened._

_"V-Viktor! Your dog!"_

 

Viktor handed over Makkachin to the veterinarians. It was the best veterinary hospital in St. Petersburg and he had been a regular client so the doctors and even the receptionist were familiar with him.

“How long has Makkachin been choking?” the doctor asked, coming out of the emergency room.

“I’m not sure. I got home and saw Makkachin already choking.” he replied, signing the last bit of the paper work.

“You arrived probably over an hour since he started trying to cough it out.” Yuri said with a tinge of guilt in his voice.

“OVER AN HOUR?!” he snapped. “You mean to say that Makkachin had been choking for the past hour before I got home and you didn’t call me?!”

“I was just.." he was about to tell him that he was going to call him but Viktor seemed to be nowhere in the mood near to listening to his explanation. "I thought I could handle it. I tried everything I could on the internet and then you arrived.”

Viktor slapped his forehead. He was seeing red. His blood was on fire. Rage unable to be controlled in his veins and his temper got the better of him, causing him to spit out words without restraint.

“Yuri! Look what just happened! God fucking dammit if your grandfather hadn’t handed you over to me and adding stress into my life, I wouldn’t be in the predicament in the first place!”

…….

Silence. The entire veterinary lobby was in silence. No one could react, even the doctor. Yuri had no answer. It wasn’t like he wanted to be with Viktor. It wasn’t like he wanted his grandfather to hand him over. It wasn’t like he wanted his grandfather to die in the first place. Yuri wanted to retort but he could not find it in himself to answer Viktor with all the guilt and rage confusing how he should feel about the situation. Instead he had stormed away and left the vicinity. The room was slowly being filled with murmurs, a moment after Viktor’s outrage.

The doctor cleared his throat and tapped on his clipboard of Makkachin’s records.

“Mr. Nikiforov, we may have to operate on Makkachin to extract the foreign object out. The team can’t dislodge it with the endoscope as it has reached too far below. However your pet is now ten years old and it might be risky to put it through another surgery as it might not be strong enough. But as Makkachin is right now, we can’t afford to waste more time.”

Viktor’s breath hitched and started becoming erratic. The thought of losing Makkachin was the last thing he wanted in his life.

“Viktor, please. Decide.” the doctor handed over a pen and a waiver on a clipboard.

The Viktor gulped. Never had he before been pressured to be in this situation where the devil now has to sign a contract with a human that cannot assure that he could deliver his wishes. But he had no choice and signed the waiver, permitting them to operate on his pet.

“Save my dog.” he muttered under his breath.

“We’ll do our best.”

“Do everything you can! I don’t care how much it will take. Just save my dog, Celestino!”

It wasn’t like him to be in a fit of desperation.

“Like I said, if Makkachin will be strong enough, then he will.” he flatly said. “For now, I suggest that you go out for some fresh air. We’ll contact you to come back once we have an update on Makkachin’s condition.”

* * *

 

Viktor aimlessly walked out the veterinary hospital onto the bays of St. Petersburg. He and Makkachin would be walking here if he wasn’t in the hospital right now. His mind was only clouded with worry and fear over the life of his beloved pet. Makkachin was more than just a pet. He was more than just some poodle. He was the only family he considered. All this stressed loomed on him and to add to that, Yuri’s gone off somewhere after he lashed out without restraint.

His mind was deep somewhere in his dark thoughts and he didn’t pay attention to where he was going. It was a miracle that he’s unscathed even if he was so distracted with all this stress. Somehow, he finds himself walking on the church grounds when he snaps his attention back to where he was.

Praying wasn’t exactly in Viktor’s vocabulary. He wasn’t one who relied on a being that he can’t see nor feel after all the pain that’s going through his life. But just for today, he wanted to try. He entered the church and walked down the left flank aisle to their usual spot. Mass had finished already and there was no way he’d see the choir boy. He was a little thankful at least he wouldn’t see him like this.

For once, he wanted to be there not because he wanted to see someone but rather to hope that the deity watching over the people would listen to his plea. And so he gets down on his knees and clasps his hands together to pray.

“If there’s a God out there, if you’re actually listening, could you please show me a sign that you’re real? Can you save my dog? Can you fix all the problems that I messed up today?” he began.

He looked at the empty altar and the icons on the walls.

“God it would really mean so much to me if you’d help me with what I’m going through right now. Nikolai asked you to extend his life for his grandson but he had me to take care of Yuri. I’m really messing up right now. I was hoping that you could help Makkachin please. Makkachin’s the only family I’ve got.”

His voice started to crack. All his happy memories with Makkachin flashing in his mind as he closes his eyes.

“I can’t imagine living tomorrow without him after all these ten years.” He continues, fighting the tears welling up at the rim of his eyes. “Please help Makkachin get through his operation safely. Please… help me.”

The tears burned at the edge of his eyes. But he wasn’t strong enough to fight it so he let it flow over his cheeks and let out a sob.

"Help me. Help him..."

“Umm, hi...” a voice came from his right.

A voice ever so soft, so soothing even it was a simple 'hi'. Had an angel descended to him? Had God sent help for a sinner whose soul is helplessly pitch black? He turned to the the source to find a familiar bespectacled black haired boy, standing before him in robes of white with red and gold embellishment in contrast with his black usual choir robe. Nevertheless he was still stunningly beautiful.

Viktor got up from his kneeling position and sat on the bench, quickly drying his face. What a mess he had to be. He had once remembered how he wanted to look his best to talk to him two weeks ago but not like this.

“I’m really sorry to interrupt you. I just...” the boy said, voice trailing off as he scavenged for a reason in his mind, fretting on how this wasn’t well thought out.

“No, it’s fine.” Viktor replied with a sniff and a small grin, his eyes unable to tear away from the person before him. “Hi there.”

“Sorry, I just couldn’t help noticing. Are you okay?” he asked, a worried tone lacing his words.

Viktor didn’t know what to say at first. This conversation’s turned from what he was trying to practice at home and he had to be caught at this very awkward time.

“There’s been a lot of things going on lately.” he finally said.

“I can sure tell.” the choir boy replied, sweeping his robe neatly to sit beside Viktor. “You’re were always with the old man and that blonde teenager every evening.”

The silver-haired man parted his lips in surprise that the boy actually noticed him from before. His mind was at chaos trying coming up of what to say as he was pretty starstruck with him up close like that.

“I’m Viktor.” he said instinctively as he held out his hand. “Viktor Nikiforov.”

The boy reached for his hand and gently clasped them in his own.

“I’m Yuuri,” the young man said. “Katsuki Yuuri.”

“Nice to meet you, Katsuki.”

“Ah no, it’s Yuuri. Sorry, I got used to introducing myself in Japanese.”

Viktor was right. Of course he was. The distinct facial features Yuuri had wasn’t common for Russians. He chuckled lightly at a funny realization.

“All good, Yuuri.” he replied, his smile tugging further at each end. “Funny, you have the same name as the boy you noticed I was with.”

“Really? What a coincidence!” Yuuri chuckled.

And coincidentally, this Yuuri was an angel instead of the brat that tried to kill his dog. Wherever he was, Viktor didn't care. God sent him an angel that was the exact opposite of Yuri. A rather awful thought objectively from another person's point of view but the anger over the other Yuri had not dissipated yet. But strange, the soothing feeling of this man's presence with him overwhelms the anger into indifference and eventually, he had calmed down. 

“Indeed. Though I’m quite surprised that you remembered me.”

“Well… You three seemed to always take a seat at the benches near the choir every evening so I would take notice.”

“Good point.” Viktor said, leaning on the backrest before looking at Yuuri tenderly.

Silence befell them and Viktor scrambled in his head to try and find something to say. Would this be a good time to tell him? But what if he came on as too overbearing and scare him away. But then again, what if there could never be another chance like this again?

“I really love your singing, Yuuri.”

Yuuri froze on his seat and felt the tattletale blush taint his cheek upon hearing Viktor’s compliment.

“I...umm, thank you.” he answered with a bashful smile.

Viktor felt a sense of accomplishment on being able to tell him how amazing his singing was but what’s next? He didn’t think up of the conversation up to this point. His eyes scrambled for a topic but Yuuri was quick to save them from silence.

“How are they? The teenager and the grandfather I mean.”

Of course, that topic had to come up. It was what he first noticed about Viktor. He hadn’t been going to church after Nikolai’s death and now he shows up a crying mess praying.

“The old man, Nikolai, he’s passed away already.” he said with a somber voice. “He’s given me Yuri to take care of.”

“Ah, I’m sorry to hear that, Viktor. My deepest condolences.” Yuuri said, reaching a hand out to Viktor to pat him on the arm but widthrew. “How about we light up a candle for him?”

Yuuri got up and nodded to beckon Viktor to follow him. As they walked down the aisle, Viktor trailed behind a step, following the young man to one of the big doors that led outside to a garden lit by bright tungsten lights. The walk was a little silent but at last Viktor finally came up with something to talk about.

“You seem to have changed your robes, Yuuri. You’re not in your usual black ones.”

He turned back to the taller man and swept two hands to neatly across his white sotana.

“I alternate duty as an altar server when the sacristy is short handed. It’s not that common that I switch to this sotana.”

“I see. You still look stunning on either.”

Viktor managed to compliment him again but this time, he was only answered with a shy chuckle. Yuuri tried to hide the warmth gushing on his cheeks. They stopped down the path when it ended at a long metal stand that looked like bleachers stretching long with candle holders.

“Here, take this.” Yuuri said, handing over a small white candle.

He couldn’t move when he looked at Yuuri, glowing majestically above the warm light of the already lit candles.

“Viktor?” he said, furrowing his eyebrows, confused as to why he’s staring at him.

“Oh, sorry! Yes, thank you.” Viktor snapped out of his trance and took the candle from him.

He lit the candle using the principal candle’s flame before placing it onto an empty spot.

Both of them stand in silence in front of the candles. What now? Viktor thought. Yuuri placed his hands together in prayer, as if giving a hint on what to do. The taller man awkwardly followed the suit and whispered a silent prayer for the departed Nikolai.

As he finished, he turned to face the young man who had only just finished his own prayer. The cold breeze blew gently; truly it was the end of summer. Yuuri looked up to the sky to see the first star twinkling high up the beautiful gradient and back to Viktor.

“It’s getting dark and really chilly. You should go, Viktor.” Yuuri said.

But Viktor didn’t want their encounter to end. Not yet. It’s brief but he wanted to extend this moment. He swallowed dryly and hoped that his idea would work. When Yuuri was about to turn and leave to the sacristy entrance Viktor grabbed his wrist gently, putting him to a halt.

“I-If you’d like, could we get some coffee together?” Viktor suggested.

Yuuri softly but deeply inhaled through his lips. It’s strange. Normally he would decline strangers asking him to come with them for something especially at night. But there was something about Viktor that he didn’t want to leave the man alone.

“Umm, okay.” he said, looking down reluctantly. “But let me change out of my sotana.”

“Of course.” Viktor chuckled. He felt the tension on his shoulders relieve upon his answer.

“Wait here. I’ll be quick.”

* * *

 

Yuuri and Viktor walked down market area, observing the busy street as they made their way to a cozy cafe near the bay. Once settled in and out of the cold, Viktor ordered some sweets to go with their coffee. Although Yuuri tried to pay for himself, Viktor insisted that he would pay since he was the one who invited him. Yuuri degressed seeing that Viktor wouldn’t accept a single ruble from him. For a moment, they were silent, observing the people and cars pass by out the window.

“So Yuuri, how long have you been staying here in Russia?” Viktor asked, breaking the silence.

“I’ve been here since two years ago.” Yuuri truthfully answered.

“I see, do you live with your parents here in Russia? Perhaps, you’re a half?”

“No, I’m really fully Japanese.” he replied, taking a bite off a donut. “My parents are in Japan. I live here by myself.”

Viktor’s heart sank a little upon knowing that he was living alone. He, too, knew how lonely it was to live in solitude. But Yuuri wasn’t completely alone. His parents were alive and well in Japan. Whereas, Viktor’s were not.

“Why do you live alone? It’s amazing that you’ve adapted to Russia after two years.” he asked, curiosity peaking. “Are you working here?”

“You’re quite the interrogator, Viktor.” Yuuri answered with a small chuckle.

The lawyer flinched at realizing that his desire to know Yuuri more was coming off as a little rude to him.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Yuuri.” he apologized. “I didn’t mean to pry, I’m just..”

“Curious?” the bespectacled young man smiled, tilting his head slightly to the side.

“Yeah,” Viktor laughed nervously. “That is, if you don’t mind me asking.”

Yuuri laughed a little and was just about to give him an answer when the phone on the man’s pocket started to ring. Viktor clicked his tongue and looked at the caller ID-- it was Dr. Cialdini. Makkachin! He had almost forgotten about Makkachin. He stood up and excused himself from Yuuri for a moment and hurriedly answered the call.

“Hello, Celestino? How’s Makkachin?” he said, voice washed with worry in an instant.

“Viktor, you may want to come back and I’ll explain.” the veterinary doctor answered.

“Just tell me what’s going on, please!” he pleaded on the phone.

“Viktor, Makkachin’s condition is critical. It’s unlikely that he’ll get through the night after the operation.”

Viktor almost dropped his phone when the strength in his hand wavered. Makkachin, his life-long best friend could die at any given moment soon. The fear clutched onto his heart like some vice-like grip as his thoughts swirl out of control. Anxiety pools into his belly trying to force what he had eaten just moments ago. He couldn’t feel himself breathe but little did he know, Yuuri could see everything from their table.

“Viktor, sorry are you alright?” a voice said from behind him.

The taller man flinched at the sound of this beautiful voice and hung up his call instinctively. He looked behind him with reddish sorrowful eyes to meet widening brown ones.

“Yuuri,” he said with a slightly cracked voice “I-I’m sorry. It’s just my dog.”

“Your dog talked to you on the phone?” Yuuri asked with genuine confusion.

“No, no. I mean… my dog’s at the veterinary hospital. The doctor said he might not make it through the night.”

Yuuri cupped his mouth with one hand. He mentally kicked himself for saying such a ridiculous thing when the situation was actually dire.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry Viktor, I...”

“It’s okay Yuuri. Really I was just there earlier and I was told to step out to get some fresh air from the stress. I winded up around the church grounds and I just...”

Yuuri placed a hand over at Viktor’s shoulder.

“Go to your best friend, Viktor.” he said, his voice laced with concern. “I’ll be praying for your dog. God has a plan.”

“Yuuri I...”

Viktor trailed off and his lips curved up to a small sad grin. He nodded at the choir boy and gave the hand on his shoulder a light squeeze before he ran off to the veterinary hospital.


End file.
